Shadow Games
by Drop And Die
Summary: A spark of snubbed love sets Runeterra on fire. A nation long-lost tries to rise once more.
1. Scorned

**AN: This is a collaboration between a friend and I. Feels good to finally have -something- to show for all this time.**

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_Life is a funny thing_. Ashe thought to herself as she walked the barren streets of Bilgewater. Cloaked in shadows, unwilling to let the world see her face, she breathed in the bitter salty air as she continued her slow journey – a journey of enlightenment; a journey of defeat.

It had all started on a cold February day as a common girl had walked onto the battlefield with an unusual pet. Ashe and Tryndamere had been holding their own, fighting hand in hand, but it was clear that before long the tired pair would face defeat at the face of their Noxian enemies. Quinn, Ashe later learned she was called, flew into the battlefield amongst a hail of bolts that rivaled even Ashe's incredible volleys. The three allies fought together, holding off five of Noxus' best, and before long had achieved victory on the battlefield.

Ashe, Quinn and Tryndamere retired to one of the many Barbarian villages Tryndamere had visited in his youth. Raucous as always, Tryndamere quickly deteriorated into a blundering, drunken loud-mouth. Ashe smiled to herself – the man was inconceivably charming and revolting at the same time. The center of attention, Tryndamere quickly began relating tales of the battle they had just won in between pulls of mead. The tankards kept flowing and Ashe enjoyed a nice buzz herself alongside the man that she loved, sitting at his right hand side.

Quinn sat quietly at the back end of the table while stroking Valor softly and feeding him tidbits from the table. Tryndamere flashed a hungry look towards Quinn, unable to hide his lust from Ashe in his drunken state. A slight jealousy gripped Ashe but she ignored it – after all what chance did this common woman have when compared to Princess Ashe, the Frost Archer?

Ashe came across the inn she was looking for in Bilgewater. A crosshair sign swung in the breeze above the door, crudely drawn and tattered. As Ashe stepped inside, the interior matched the sign perfectly. The room was filled with acrid smoke that burned her lungs. Ashe couldn't get used to anything in this place. She missed her cold northern air, the open view, and rugged, frozen tundra. That was all gone now though. She remembered the last time she had seen it…

Before long it was clear that Tryndamere no longer favored her. Quinn, Tryndamere, and she had fought countless battles together, leveling opponents with frightening speed. With each victory a new alliance appeared to emerge. Tryndamere and Quinn held gazes longer as they worked in coordination and often leaving Ashe behind to cover their backs as they dashed forward together. Everything Ashe did felt inadequate; Quinn felt stronger, better, and younger. Ashe's tears felt warm against her chilling heart and with each battle Ashe felt a strange new sensation gripping her: pain. Her pride had always guarded her from pain, but the now-inseparable Quinn and Trynd threatened that pride as Ashe remained second best.

Ashe had walked in on Quinn and Trynd in a banquet hall kissing. Her eyes pierced the dark through an open door, probably 300 feet away, and she clearly saw the loving gazes that Trynd and Quinn favored each other with as they kissed one another. Valor hopped happily between the two, sending a quiet, deep laughter through Tryndamere as he stroked the bird, its happy caws purring through the hall. Ashe had left that night.

Ashe didn't see who she was supposed to meet, so she went up to the gigantic bartender and ordered a flask of mead. The red-haired man laughed raucously, stating, "Little lady, thi' ain't tha place fer ya, nor is this tha brew fer ya."

The look Ashe leveled at the man surprised him in its ferocity, and he stumbled back before quickly grabbing a keg, hefting it easily with one hand and pouring her a healthy portion into a cup. He didn't ask for any money but Ashe saw him chug the rest of the keg greedily, shaking off the look as she sat in a corner of the room. She pulled out the letter that had been presented to her, and reread the short note, hoping that it rang with truth.

_I'm aware of your problem, dear, and I wish to help. Bilgewater – look for the crosshair._

_The Widowmaker_

The title alone had sent Ashe into a frantic rush to get to the inn. Perhaps she had beat the sender here, she thought to herself. Without warning a woman emerged from a cloak of nothing in front of her, smiling and dark. Ashe was taken completely off guard – with her insane vision, she had never been taken that off guard before. What in the world was in that mead?

"Hello Ashe," the woman purred seductively, placing herself uninvited across the table from her, crossing her bare legs sensually. Ashe was too surprised to be offended by this clearly inadequate address. Instead, she just mumbled, "And to whom do I owe the pleasure?"

The laugh that filled the room held no mirth in it, and as the bartender looked up an expression of fear quickly crossed his features. Everyone else in the bar had left but the bearded man just picked up another keg, downing it.

"Most call me Evelynn, but a select few regard me simply as 'Eve', and I believe you are worthy of addressing me as such," she purred as she picked up the tankard from which Ashe had been sipping, smelling it, and setting it back down with a wrinkle of disgust across her features.

"Alright… Evelynn," Ashe stated, hoping to offend the woman (when in fact it just made her smile) "Why did you send me that letter?"

"Because of your problem of course," she laughed, smiling. "You see, I'm rather the expert at ensuring the demise of certain… champions… and I've always seen Tryndamere as a challenge. He always seems able to evade my rather impressive ability to ensure death, but I feel that with your own rather impressive abilities, we can finally defeat him." Ashe was shocked at how forward this woman was. How dare she talk so easily of killing such a noble man!

A flash of hate appeared like a spike in her mind at that moment, and she remembered that cold night as Quinn and Trynd had kissed, trading little nothings. Anger burned in her like a cancer and she gripped her bow with a ferocity that chilled the entire bar. "Yes," Ashe responded, eyes dry and heart cold, "I believe you're right."

Evelynn laughed again, smiling at Ashe. "Great! Great. However, Trynd isn't the only problem. His new companion, this… Quinn."

Ashe cut her off before she could continue. "You just let me worry about Quinn."

Gragas, wanting nothing more than to forget what he just saw, chugged another keg before passing out on the counter.


	2. A Night in Freljord

The light rustling of silk curtains in the moonlight covered up the last of the noble's death throes. Blood sank into the parchment on the oaken desk, forever ruining the words hastily scrawled by the once-alive denizen of the room. Evelynn let the blood run down her arms to blend into her crimson dress. Death was just another routine for her in this form. She had been alive, once. Now those sunlight days hid behind a curtain of dark fog in the vampire's current…existence.

Not that there weren't things to enjoy, of course. The assassin's grin widened as she purveyed her handiwork_. A spark to set the world ablaze._ Silent spires of Demacia's towers belied the carnage that had just occurred in this room. Years of work led up to this moment; an artisan's web of planning finally ensnaring the juicy fly. With luck, this atrocity would garner attention of the highest order.

Evelynn threw a glance at the spattered mirror on the wall and sighed. She never minded the blood, but getting it in her hair always irked her. _No matter. I still look killer._ With a dry laugh at her dark humor, the assassin slowly phased out of the visible spectrum. Another matter demanded her attention.

Ashe glowered at Tryndamere as he set about doing what he always did: drink. Ever since her meeting with Evelynn the frost archer couldn't shake the thought of being rid of him. His previously adorable quirks now grated on her like fingers on a board. His jovial conversation as Quinn hung onto every word made her grow angrier inside by the second. Her exterior, however, was as cool as her name implied.

"Hey Ashe, remember that sweet arrow you landed on Fiora last match?" Quinn asked with a smile, remembering the moment before grabbing another swig of ale.

"That was a close call honestly. I swear that arrow grazed me even though we were on the same team!" the barbarian king exclaimed before giving Ashe a friendly hug. _I'm now a friend to him, it seems._ Ashe just smiled lightly, thinking of the arrow that she had wished would impale Tryndamere to the wall. _The least he deserves._

"Ooh Trynd, I found a really nice tavern you'll enjoy. Want to check it out?" Quinn asked, standing up and looking around for Valor. The barbarian king immediately leapt out of his chair, his answer evident.

"Of course dear. Lead the way." The pair headed for the door before realizing there was a third person in the group. Quinn looked at the stately archer regarding them with razor eyes before tentatively continuing.

"Ashe…would you like to join us?" she asked. While the two had never kept their tryst secret, this marked the first time Ashe truly became left out in public.

"Nah, I'll head home. Got a full League schedule tomorrow after all," the archer replied, seething inside. Hate seemed to coil within her like a living snake, demanding vengeance. She watched the two lovebirds sail out the door, calculating ways to enact her cold yet blazing rage. A light tap on Ashe's shoulder knocked her out of her reverie.

"Excuse me, miss, but I have a note to give to you. A lady told me to hand it to you after your companions left," the bartender said hesitantly, holding out a folded piece of parchment.

"Thank you. Who was this lady, if I might ask?" Ashe responded, taking the parchment and folding it into her hand. The bartender gulped and looked around furtively.

"I'm not at liberty to say. You know her is all I can reveal. Does that suffice?"

"Yes, it does. Thank you," Ashe replied absentmindedly, fingering the note in her hand and itching to read. The bartender bowed and scurried back to his counter. As soon as his back turned the frost archer glanced down to read the note.

_Look up._

Ashe's head snapped up to meet a familiar pair of eyes as Evelynn smirked. "How are you doing dearie?" the Widowmaker asked while casually ignoring the eyes of every inhabitant staring at her.

"I…I'm doing alright," Ashe stammered out in surprise and awe at the beauty in front of her. She felt inadequate in comparison, not having really compared herself and the assassin before.

Evelynn leaned forward, placing a hand lightly on Ashe's arm. "You do still want vengeance, right?"

"Of course," Ashe replied, refusing to let this woman get the best of her and making no reaction to Evelynn's movements. Although Eve was far too close for her comfort.

Evelynn threw Ashe a pout and sighed. "What's the fun in bothering you if you don't show any reaction? Frost Archer, indeed. Let's discuss this somewhere more private, shall we?" The assassin stood up, pretending not to notice Ashe's smile, and dragged the hapless archer out the door. The tavern din faded behind them as the door closed and Ashe suddenly noticed how barren the street was. No passersby, no souls out on this dimly lit night in Freljord. "Just follow me. Pretend you're walking by yourself if you don't mind."

"What are you talking abo-" Ashe's question cut short as Evelynn vanished into thin air, even though she could feel the assassin's hand in hers. She followed the insistent tugging through back alleys and side streets until they stood before a ramshackle hut with muted light shining through the snow-encrusted window. "What are we doing her-Ow!" Ashe grumbled and rubbed her leg where Evelynn stabbed her with a heel spike. "You're quite annoying, you realize that?"

The door opened, carrying Evelynn's warm chuckle inside. Ashe blinked as Eve's voice appeared as if whispering into her ear. _Well, she –is- whispering into my ear. Probably._ "See the man in the corner shuffling his deck by himself? Sit down across from him." Ashe followed the instructions, taking a seat across from a handsome man performing multitudes of tricks with his stacked deck.

"Well, Ashe, fancy running into you here. Care for a wager?" he asked with a knowing grin. As Ashe opened her mouth to decline, he threw a card faster than even her eyesight could follow at the seat next to her. The card stopped in midair as Evelynn reappeared, wagging the yellow card reprovingly at Twisted Fate.

"Is that any way to greet an old flame?" Evelynn replied before tossing the card across the table, watching as it rejoined its brethren in Fate's constantly moving deck.

"Depends. Is said old flame who left me fondly or left me stranded in a park and a bachelor out of nowhere?" Twisted Fate said while lazily flipping cards through the air. "I think we both know what the answer to that question is. Be happy you're the best dance partner I've known or I'd have gated away the second I sensed you." Evelynn's throaty laugh rang out in the dim room.

"You always did know how to charm a girl," Evelynn said with a wink. "Perhaps a dance is in order, later. I have a spot of business to conduct with you." She leaned forward across the table and lowering her voice. "You see, Ashe has someone she'd like to find the whereabouts of on a night not so far in the future. We both know you're the man for the job. After all, you're one of the very few people who can spot me in a crowd."

Twisted Fate grinned. "Yeah, besides Quinn." Evelynn's sultry smile twitched at the name and Fate only grinned wider. "Ah, hits a sore spot eh? So who do you need to track?" His cards drew in tighter around him, as though the curiosity that gripped him reflected in the cards themselves.

Evelynn matched Fate's grin, revealing her sharp incisors. The gambler's smile faded a notch; he knew what was about to happen when Eve showed teeth in a smile. At least he wasn't the victim. Some nights he had doubts that he would ever spot her in time if she went for him. "None other than the subject of our discussion, Quinn. And Tryndamere, of course. Ashe here has a beef with the two of them."

"Ah yes, their little fling," Fate replied, causing Ashe to flinch at the widespread knowledge. Of course I can find them, just let me know when. There is the matter of price…" Evelynn chuckled.

"Price is no object. Our usual agreement?" she replied, standing up. Fate nodded, his cards swirling around his hat faster than before. The two shook hands, nimble fingers meeting exquisitely manicured nails that could easily tear flesh. "You're a dear as always Twisted Fate." She moved around the table and kissed him on the cheek before grabbing Ashe's hand again. "Ready to go dear?"

"What price are you paying? Don't I have to do something for this?" Ashe replied, confused at the conversation's speed.

"When the time comes, we'll be needing your arrows dearie. That's all. Just think of it…as my treat," Eve said, not doing a whit to relieve Ashe's confusion. _At least I have what I want, a plan to show Tryndamere up._

Ashe let her confusion rule her as Evelynn once again towed the archer outside. The assassin's smooth skin against hers didn't bother her this time as Eve stealth-led her back to the tavern from earlier in the evening. "Brr! I don't think I like cold weather all that much," Evelynn grumbled from thin air. Cracking a smile at the comment, Ashe relished the soft snow falling from the sky. "So, are you ready?"

"Ready for what? It seems like we have a plan, but I know nothing about it," Ashe replied, folding her arms and staring at the air where the voice had come from.

Something tickled her sides from behind and she laughed before spinning around to face Eve. "First thing to remember dearie, I'm never where you think I am. Secondly, the plan is quite simple. Tryndamere and Quinn need to go."

"Go where? I don't think I'm getting it." Ashe frowned at the connotations of that sentence, having a dim memory of discussing murder the evening before. _But s__urely we're just punishing them…_

Evelynn took a step closer but Ashe held her ground. "You know full well what I mean."

"But…murder is far too much!" the archer protested, her newfound conscience rebelling at the thought of that, even for the cheating scum. Something seemed to pulse in the air then, as Evelynn closed the distance and stared directly into Ashe's eyes from inches away.

"Don't you hate them? What they've done to you? To your reputation, your honor, your heart? You gave everything to him but he cast it away for that woman and her silly bird. Do you really want to let that slide? Vengeance is sweet…taste it." Ashe looked back into those strange eyes and felt her rage growing. Yes, a trick to punish those two was not enough. A woman scorned had the right to fight back with everything she had. This was no mere loathing; this was hate personified.

"Yes. Those two will taste my arrows and my face shall be the last thing they see," Ashe muttered, falling under the spell of those enigmatic eyes. Evelynn grinned, showing pearly fangs and stepped back. Ashe staggered as the force in the air snapped almost audibly.

"Good dearie. You see how it is. Now, let me buy you a drink. A busy day of work is well rewarded with a busier night of revelry! Well, what's left of the night anyway." Evelynn linked her arm with Ashe's and opened the tavern door. The two stepped into the din, Ashe calling for a beer or three.

A shadow grew into existence in the alleyway as the door closed, forming a humanoid form with an array of toys. Shaco grinned maniacally to himself, wondering what beautiful joke his fellow League members were cooking up. He just simply had to know. How he loved bad jokes. Especially when they ended in death.


	3. The Gravemaker's March

**A/N: A short interlude chapter here.**

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The calm shadows twisted around frozen air as Quinn and Trynd locked arms, heading towards the tavern that Quinn had promised. Quinn shivered as a whisper of frost locked her in its grasp then pulled Tryndamere closer, pressing her body up against his warm chest as they walked on.

Tryndamere was silent. It was uncharacteristic and it bothered Quinn. When a man of action stops to think, bad things follow.

"Quinn," Tryndamere said in as close to a normal speaking voice as possible, "Do you believe what we're doing is wrong?" Deep thought nestled within the barbarian's furrowed brow as he wrestled with questions of morality. He'd always been able to be with who he wanted, fight who he wanted, love who he wanted. He wasn't used to monogamy, and didn't believe it was expected of him, but something in the way Ashe had stared at him that night still pulled at his fragile heartstrings.

Quinn stopped Tryndamere in his tracks, forcing him to face her full on. She pushed him out to arms distance and locked gazes with him. "Tryndamere," she whispered through frozen lips, "How can love ever be wrong? The relationship between you and Ashe was purely political. In my homeland the people always marry for love's sake, not to settle petty squabbles or form false political unions. You deserve better than this barren wasteland has given you," she finished.

Tryndamere pulled his gaze away from hers to stare at the night sky. Quinn pulled herself close into him, nestling her head in his chest, and felt his huge arm wrap around her fragile form. Everything in the world, for just that moment, was right.

Tryndamere peeled her gently from his grasp then leaned in, kissing her with a fiery passion that sent waves of desire through them both. The night was young and they were going to take full advantage of it.

A lonely man drank in a lonely corner, as lonely men often do. His past he'd rather forget, having only left a single noteworthy deed on the doorstep of history, and his future didn't matter. He'd escaped but how could he go back after what he'd seen? Somehow Malzahar had been able to rip him from the gaping maw of the Voidreaver, but the fact that he had been left defenseless held no comfort. How could a world of light hold any chance against such consuming darkness?

Evelynn stroked Ashe's hair ever so gently as she slept. Ashe truly was hopeless, she thought to herself. How could the Frost Archer contain such warmth within her? It was completely pitiful, so beautifully, depressingly pitiful. Eve let out a sigh as she caressed Ashe's face. Perhaps in another life –

A strange cackling, soft and subtle yet foreboding, filled the small room. Ashe did not wake at the sound but the familiarity of it sent an uncharacteristic shiver of fear through Eve's breast.

The room lit up with cheerful blood-red lighting that was almost misty, and Eve quickly rose from Ashe's bedside, not bothering to wake her as she cloaked herself in shadows at the corner of the room.

"How about a magic trick?" Eve heard as the demon jester popped his head out in front of her. He held in front of him a jack-in-the-box, its soft cackling audible through the thin wooden frame. Shaco twisted the lever to the box while smiling at Eve in that broken, demented manner that graced his murderous swelled in Eve and she pushed the box into Shaco, attempting to drive him off, but only a cloud of vapor remained where once the man had been.

"Just… a little bit closer, Evelynn," Shaco cackled in the air. Eve pulled herself out of the shadows as they clearly did no good, and walked towards the center of the room, readying herself for the impending battle. "Look behind you," a voice whispered in her ear. She turned furiously but as she did everything disappeared. The cloud of red mist vanished, the eerie jack-in-the-box, the demon clown. Was she hallucinating?

Ashe still lay asleep. Evelynn, wanting to forget the entire incident, headed back downstairs into the gloomy dark of the bar. The shadows embraced and comforted her, and she pulled them close as mortal morsels passed through her obliviously.

Yorick wiped his brow, gazing proudly at the four graves that he had dug. He hefted his shovel and headed towards Freljord.


End file.
